


The New Kamski Test

by underneath_this_skin_is_a_human



Series: Becoming Human [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Confused Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Innocent Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Kamski is an asshole, Kamski is running experiments, M/M, Manipulation, Masturbation, Multiple Pairings, Porn With Plot, Protective Hank, Self-Doubt, Smut, So much angst, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-08 15:02:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15245886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/underneath_this_skin_is_a_human/pseuds/underneath_this_skin_is_a_human
Summary: Hank and Connor have been in a relationship since the android revolution, despite their self doubt. Hank worries that Connor might leave him for a younger, better looking man; Connor worries that Hank would rather share his life with a human partner. What worries Connor the most is his programming. If he was made to be a detective, why was he made with genitalia? Hank offers to go see Kamski for answers, but when Connor hears he's not allowed, he leaves to get his own explanation.





	1. Questions

**Author's Note:**

> This is a continuation of another fic of mine called Software Instability: Detected.

Hank had promised himself that he would never go back.  


After seeing those cold, calculating eyes studying Connor, sizing up him up like he was a puzzle to solve, he had grabbed his partners shoulder and steered him away from Kamski as fast as he could.  


Connor would never understand. He was too innocent. He wanted to make others happy. Back at the club, he had fallen to his knees, determined to give Hank pleasure no matter what it took. If the man who created him asked for a favor, what reason would he see to say no?  


But now that the androids were being given equal rights Elijah Kamski was sure to have toned it down. Started treating the females in his house like real people instead of dolls, right?  


Hank wasn't so sure.  


But Connor was getting curious about his programming. More and more often he would wait until Hank was half asleep, groggy and warm after sex and he would voice pressing questions in a small, thoughtful voice.  


If he was made to be a detective android why was he made with perfectly replicated genitalia? Why was he able to self-lubricate?  


The thing that really seemed to bother him was the fact he couldn't ejaculate. Everything would be fine, both of them riding a high of pleasure, Hank would come and Connor...Nothing.  


He would sink his head into Hank's chest, panting even though he didn't need to simulate breathing, and he would heave a disappointed sigh. Sometimes he would trace his fingers over the tattoo on Hank's chest and interweave them through the hair there, holding on for an hour, not moving or speaking, LED flashing yellow. Or he would jump out of bed to make breakfast so they didn't have the chance to discuss. Or he would roll over onto his side so that the older man couldn't see his face and ask if it bothered him.  


"I have the same rights as a human," Connor would say. "But I can't show you how much pleasure you bring me. I won't ever be able to give you what another human could."  


Without fail, Hank would always say, "And I can't give you what some young, good looking guy could give you-"  


Puppy dog eyes narrowed, cheeks flushed blue with anger, Connor would roll over, speaking rushed, "I would never want anyone else. Young or not. Your varied life experience and overall attitude is one of the reasons I chose you-"  


"Shut up for a second. If you would listen for one second, you'd hear that I was going to say that you just being here shows me that you want me."  


And that would work for a while. Until the next time they were together.  


Hank had wanted to help. Who would know better about Connor's functions than the man who had created him? But he hadn't wanted to bring Connor there, practically serving him up on a platter to the twisted mind of Kamski, who would more than likely treat the occasion as his birthday. And who would blame Connor when he fell for the bait and traded Hank out for the younger man?  


So, in a moment of selfish self preservation, he'd told Connor he wasn't allowed to come along.  


Not allowed.  


Connor paced, repeating the words, working his voice hoarse, knocking his knuckles against the front door everytime he said "not allowed". His first real tantrum. Then he walked out the front door.  


He had to come back. Where else would Connor go? Maybe he would go to the park or visit Markus. But he would be back. He had to come back. So Hank would wait. He would believe that this wasn't the end.  


Hank found his whiskey. It was hidden behind a brand of "heart healthy" cereal that he hated. He drank. Waited. Drank.  


It was two hours later when Hank climbed into his car. He knew he shouldn't drink and drive. He was an officer for fucks sake. But Connor wasn't there to chide him, to take the keys out of his hand, to press him down into the couch where he belonged and to soothe him with eager, sloppy kisses.  


He couldn't let Connor go on his own. Kamski would eat him alive.

...

"Well...Connor, is it?" It was feigned shock that colored Kamski's voice. It was his company that had programmed Connor. There was no way he would forget that name. Those innocent, wide eyes. How eager he was to serve.  


The android nodded. A stray curl bouncing on his forehead. "Yes, sir." Delicious.  


Connor looked entirely different than the last time they had met. Less clean cut without that stream lined suit, that perfectly knotted tie. He was wearing a jean jacket over an olive green cotton t shirt and blue jeans. Tight. Did Connor dress himself or did he leave that to the lieutenant?  


He stepped aside, letting Connor enter the house. Even though he had been there previously, he still surveyed the room.  


"Amber," Kamski called. "Come get our guests' jacket."  


An android made to closely resemble Chloe entered the room, slipping the jean jacket down Connor's shoulders. Her hand lingered on his for too long.  


He flinched, just a bit. "Amber?"  


"Yes?" She grinned from ear to ear. Clearly, she was already disgustingly infatuated with the other android. But who wouldn't be? Connor was hand made with boyishly good looks. You either wanted to protect him or you wanted to corrupt him.  


Kamski grabbed and held onto Amber's arm until she met his eye. "He wasn't talking to you. It was a question. Hang up his jacket. Oh, and remember to download that file into the system for me." She nodded and left the room.  


He began walking, knowing full well the reason Connor had decided to come was strong enough to make him follow blindly.  


"What happened to Chloe?" Connor asked.  


A shot of jealousy churned Kamski's stomach. Jealousy at remembering how fondly Chloe had spoken about Connor, praising him. Jealousy at Connor caring enough to ask where she had gone.  


He didn't have to rearrange the annoyance out of his expression because Connor was behind him. "Oh. Chloe." He attempted to sound flippant. "After the revolution we went our seperate ways. It seems that she had developed...a different outlook on life. But all is fine. I understand the want for freedom."  


"That was very kind of you."  


"You sound surprised."  


His giggle was nervous. Adorable. "Not at all. I believe that everyone has an urge for kindness."  


So naive, Kamski thought, but said out loud, "You are a fan of philosophy, then?" The thought gave him a surprising sense of excitement.  


"I'm, uh, not very well versed."  


The verbal tick-the "uh"-was a learned speech pattern. Where did Connor pick it up? Was he spending time with many other humans? After the revolution androids were often speaking of reaching out, but realistically things were still strained. There were a few people who had gotten used to the change but not many. What human was Connor around regularly?  


The lieutenant. Of course.  


They reached the office. Kamski placed his hand on the fingerprint scanner and the doors slid open. "Guests first," he offered, less out of politness and more out of the pleasure of seeing how the android's ass moved in those tight jeans.  


Like before, Connor took his time scanning the room. Kamski knew what he would find but wondered what he might make of the setting. Would he see how clean and sparse the room was and be impressed or would he find it impersonal?  


After a few seconds, Connor finally said, "The only seat is at your desk."  


"Sit...If you want," he added.  


Connor sat at the desk. It was oddly formal how he sat with perfect posture, his hands clasped together on his lap.  


"Truly, you're the last person I would imagine making a casual visit." It was a lie. He had always known, sooner or later, that Connor's curiousity would get the best of him and bring him back. Kamski moved slowly around the side of the desk towards the android, letting a flirtatious tone color his words. "Is this for another investigation? I swear I've been on my best behavior."  


He took the words seriously. "No. I'm not here on official business. I'm here because I have-"  


"Questions?"  


Connor nodded, less sure of himself.  


"Ah, I see." Kamski sat himself down on the edge of the desk in front of Connor. He realized that he was in the optimal position, give or take a layer of clothing and a few inches, to recieve a blow job. He spread his legs farther apart. Sweat pants wouldn't be able to hide much. "Ask away."  


As his cheeks flooded with thirium induced coloring, Connor adverted his eyes. So he had noticed.  


"Connor, I can't answer your questions if I don't know what they are," he teased.  


Words came out of his mouth, nervous. "I don't understand why an android programmed for detective work would be given genitalia. But also why the genitalia itself isn't fully functional-"  


Kamski resisted the urge to grin. "You can't get it up?"  


"That's not what I meant. I can get an erection. I'm not able to achieve an orgasm."  


There was no use for hiding what he wanted now. "Show me."  


"What?" The wide eyes met his. Just for a second. "No. I-"  


Not bothering to worry about being rough, he grabbed Connor's jaw. Soft under his fingers. The LED flickered red. "I won't be able to understand what you mean unless I can see it myself. So show me."  


Kamski let go of Connor's face and gripped his hips instead, tugging until he was standing. Then he slid his hands to cup the tight curve of the androids' ass. It made Connor flinch, but that only brought him forward, knocking into Kamski's mouth. It was messy, driven by teenage-like giddiness, but with Connor's hairless, innocent twink appearence, it was almost fitting. He slipped his tongue into Connor's mouth and grinded his growing erection against his hips.  


That gained a moan.  


But then, with a strength that should've been expected, Connor pulled away, falling back into the chair.  


"Come back," Kamski ordered, trying to smile.  


Connor shook his head. "No. I can't."  


"Are you really that attatched to 'Lieutentant Anderson'?" He attempted to mimic Connor's voice, but the tone was too mocking, too angry. "What can a pervy, old drunk give you in the long run? He'll be dead in a few years-"  


It was as close to a growl that Connor could manage. "Don't you dare talk about Hank like that."  


"Hank." The android was so connected to the old fart. Everyone had a type. Kamski understood that better than most people. But why Hank Anderson? Whatever. He could still find some sort of pleasure in the experience. "Fine. I apologize. But I still need to see the problem so I can diagnose what's wrong."  


He didn't need to see. Android prototypes like Connor had been programmed without the ability to ejaculate, but Cyberlife had been testing out new technology that made it possible. Connor didn't need to know that yet. Not until Kamski got what he wanted.  


"I don't want you to touch me."  


It stung but he would get over it. There were plenty people that would kill for the chance. "Do it yourself, then."  


Connor's brow furrowed in confusion. Was he serious? He hadn't ever touched himself?  


This was getting ridiculous. Kamski rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'll show you. Undo your zipper."  


As the android did what he was told, Kamski rolled down the waist of his sweat pants, letting himself free. Why not get a treat out of it? Connor mimicked, pulling his dick out of his underwear. Tighty whities. Fucking hell.  


He took Connor's hand, despite the recoil. "Relax. I'm helping." He spit into Connor's hand, then his own.  


Keeping his eyes trained on Connor, half to observe and half to have something pretty to look at, he began working his hand. Usually, Kamski wasn't easily amused. He'd had so many encounters with androids that he was constantly planning new positions, arranging maximum pleasure scenarios in his mind. But with Connor it really was like being a teenager again. The shame making his face glow, the nervous way they would accidentally lock eyes.  


His hand began working double time. Fast, rough. Overstimulation. The wet noise was driving him insane.  


Connor worked slow, drawing out the strokes, letting his head fall back. His eyes were closed, obviously looking back to some memory. His mouth opened.  


Thinking that the android would be too invested to pull away, Kamski switched hands, placing fingers dampened with precum into Connor's mouth. The lips closed around them, a warm tongue swirling. Kamski came onto his shirt.  


Oh well. He'd have Amber clean it.  


His fingers stayed in Connor's mouth, working in and out.  


And then, just like Connor had said, he didn't ejaculate. He slumped back into the desk chair. His breath was loud, filling the room.  


Taking his hand back, Kamski wiped it on his already spoiled shirt and shucked it off, lacking self conciousness for a body he had worked on for years. Interns and androids were driven mad by how confident he was.  


Usually.  


He had to admit that he felt a little hurt by Connor's lack of excitement.  


"Well, Connor," he started to announce, trying to keep his voice lazy, "the solution is easy, really. I've been working with Cyberlife to create the right technology that would allow for not only more pleasure sensors in androids, but also a way to ejaculate."  


Connor perked up, listening intently.  


"But, it hasn't been beta tested yet-"  


The wide brown eyes glowed with interest. "That would be perfect. You need someone to test your technology and I want nothing more than to be fully functional."  


"First, I would require a favor from you, Connor."  


He jumped to conclusions. "I can't be with you. I told you that I'm devoted to Hank."  


"That's not quite what I meant. It's not a sexual favor, don't worry. It's more of a...personality test, if you will." Kamski recalled handing Connor his gun, seeing it trained on Chloe's forehead, the pure adrenaline rush of not knowing what might happen next. "Not like the first one. I promise no one will be physically harmed."  


It seemed enough to convince Connor. "Alright."


	2. Hypothesis

If Connor were there, he would've informed Hank how his stress levels were elevated more than the healthy amount, that his heart was working overtime. He would've taken his hand and held it until it stopped shaking. If Connor were there...  


An android opened the door, Chloe, Hank remembered her name being. Blond hair slicked back with water, expression curious. There was no LED blinking at her temple. She was wearing a bikini and her artificial skin was dripping water. It puddled on the dark floor. Her eyes flitted back and forth over his face, scanning but not seeming to recognize him from before. Would Kamski reset the memory of his androids?  


Would Kamski reset Connor's memories?  


There was no time for small talk. He cut to the chase. "Uh, Lieutenant Anderson from Detroit Police Department. Is Elijah Kamski here?"  


Her eyes narrowed. The makeup around them was smeared. "So you're the one? Huh."  


Usually, he would be curious to know what she meant. Dancing around the subject right now just pissed him off. "Is Kamski here or not? Is Connor here...? The least you could do is give me a damn answer." She glanced behind her. What was she looking for? Anger making him bold, he shoved past. "I don't have the fucking time to deal with you right now."  


"Whatever," she mumbled under her breath. There was a smile in her voice.  


The larger than life portrait of a younger, more clean cut Elijah Kamski, powerful CEO of Cyberlife stared him down from across the room. That knowing expression. How long would it take Kamski to find the right buttons to push to have Connor like putty in his hands? Had it already happened?  


And in the end, it would have been all Hank's fault. During their investigation on deviants, Hank had been the one that suggested going to interview Kamski and Connor had trusted that it was a good decision. Trusted when Hank was practically making his voice hoarse pleading not to end an innocent life as a part of Kamski's so called "test". Trusted Hank's idea that asking the creator about his programming problems was a solution, not a furthering of the problem.  


Panic was sinking in. He tried the android one more time. "Chloe, right? Where would Kamski be?"  


"Amber," she corrected, rolling her eyes. It was interesting to think about how much living with a creator like Kamski would effect her behavior. She swept her arm to gesture towards the door on the right. It slid open. Mockingly, she announced, "Mr. Kamski will see you now."  


"Pain in my ass," Hank mumbled under his breath.  


Connor's eyes were everywhere. Wide, toasted brown with golden sunbursts.  


They stared at him from the pool. Connor resting his chin on his arms, looking up inquisitively and kicking his feet idly through the red tinted water.  


They stared at him next to a potted plant. Connor brushing his fingers against the leaves lightly.  


They stared at him from the floor. Connor lounging, cheek leaning fondly against the leg of his creator, the expression on his face warm.  


All of them nearly naked, covered only by black boxer briefs.  


And then there was Kamski. His seat was in the center where he could have a view of the whole room. A king on his throne. The smile that spanned his face was careless. Wearing that fucking silk robe, tied messily to show a dip of sculpted chest, blue eyes glinting. Snake in the grass. He knew exactly what he was doing.  


Right now Hank could be home, the game on TV, bottle of beer in hand, Sumo climbing on the couch even though he knew he wasn't allowed, and Connor tucking himself under Hank's arm. It could be the perfect night.  


Instead he was in his own personal hell on earth. This had to be punishment for some misdeed in his past.  


Maybe it was punishment for falling in love with Connor.

...

The three RK800 models trained their eyes on the lieutenant the moment he entered the room. From the moles and freckles dotting their backs like constellations to the thick wavy hair on their heads to their soft pink mouths, they were identical. Exact copies of Connor. The difference was they were thrilled with the chance to touch any human, every human. They were hungry to learn and experience.

Kamski was proud of himself. It wasn't something he would normally admit to. No matter what he succeeded at in the past, building his company, making the first android to pass the Turing test-he hadn't been able to feel completely satisfied. He wasn't now. No. But there was always a rush of something more when he was getting results.

"It's a pleasure to see you again, Lieutenant."

Hank Anderson. Born September 6, 1985. Like Kamski, he had graduated top of his class. Unlike Kamski, he cared too much.

He'd done his research on the lieutenant. It was like back in college when he would last minute cram, stuffing all that new information into his head as fast as he could. His teachers would commend him for having such an impressive memory. Like a sponge, they said. They wondered what things he would accomplish in the future.

If they could see him now what would they say?

The older man fought for composure visibly. His arms crossed over his chest. A muscle in his cheek twitched. "Where's Connor?"

"Here." Kamski swept his arms in a grand gesture. Hank was making things too easy. He was already so visibly worked up. "Obviously."

"You know what I mean, asshole."

People with a lack of a better vocabulary often resorted to rushed insults when they were bothered. The lieutenant wasn't a stupid man, but other than having to act professional on the job, Kamski assumed the man didn't have to keep up a lot of appearances. Hank was so open with his more volatile emotions. Could he keep passion under wrap? How long would it be before his colleagues at the police department found out about his and Connor's relationship?

He could easily go on all day, finding the right way to word questions that would dig too deep and seeing how far he could take the other man before he broke, but with the recent sting of Connor's rejection and the anticipation burning a hole through his chest, he was becoming impatient.

"Say I was running an important experiment-"

Anderson cut him off with a snarl. "I don't give a shit about your goddamn experiments-"

Holding up a hand was less of asking for his attention and more for the want of putting on a show. "I'll keep this simple because I know you're a busy man and probably have other matters to attend to. Your partner came to me seeking answers and in turn for my help, he offered-consented-" Kamski put a heavy emphasis on the word "to be a part of an experiment. Now, I'd understand completely if you would rather not participate, but I need someone close to Connor for the hypothesis to be truly tested."

It was so easy to make things sound reasonable when you had the right words at your disposal.

Hank might have been a headstrong man, but in the end everyone had a point where they'd rather give in than keep fighting. "What is it?"

Carefully, he stood, trying not to jostle the RK800 at his feet. "As you can see, I have three RK800s here, or should I say, Connor models. Up boys." They stood gracefully, strutting over to surround Kamski. So obedient. So much less of a challenge than Connor. A minor disappointment. "To make sure the test results come out valid, I'd like you to first inspect them for me. Make sure they're identical."

...

Through the years, Hank had met many men like Kamski. Arrogant, manipulative men that thought they had their finger on the trigger of the world. But none of them had been nearly as charming or accomplished. Staring him down, Hank's feelings cycled through shades of envy and distaste.

But he was here for Connor. He had to keep repeating the thought to keep him going. Connor.

Which one was he? As Hank stepped forward to survey the three androids, he felt his heart sink. They were the same. Thin with fair skin, freckled faces, beautifully warm eyes. Their LEDs glowed a peaceful blue. Each of them offered a soft smile.

He looked away. "Yeah. Yeah, they're the same."

Kamski nodded. It was obvious he already knew the answer. "Good. Now strip." It was directed at the androids.

"What the fuck?" His heart gave a jolt. "Wait."

He reached out unconsciously to touch the Connor model nearest to him. The android reached out in turn to grab Hank's hand. Was this his Connor?

Hank flinched away.

The androids shed their briefs, baring firm backsides and erections. They didn't shy away from the eyes on them. It reminded Hank of the Eden Club, how the androids on display would flex and smile, as if they were part of a performance.

"Why are you doing this?" His stomach churned, but he was sure it was from more than the whiskey he'd drank.

"Cyberlife is asking, well," Kamski let slip a feline smile, a secret smile for the android in front of him, "begging me to come back and resume my role as CEO. They need someone who has personal experience and close knowledge of androids. And if I'm going to feel fully prepared, there are questions I need the answers to."

"Questions?"

A hand brushed over one of the Connor models' freckle dusted shoulder. "It does sound ridiculous that someone who has been studying androids this long would still have doubts in his mind, but I've found one thing in life to be true: you're never done learning."

This fucking prick was going to stand there and wax philosophical about his reasons on sexualizing androids? Any more of his bullshit and Hank was going to snap. He could feel his fist connecting with Kamski's hard jaw, bone on bone, and the crack his head would make as it hit the flooring.

You're doing this for Connor, Hank reminded himself.

"Do androids really feel love, not just lust?" His hand trailed down from the androids' shoulder to his chest. His fingers brushed a nipple, Connor leaned his face into Kamski's shoulder fondly. "Are they capable of monogamy? Is it something they want? Do they feel guilt over cheating?" Connor slipped a hand into the opening of the robe, placed on the center of the man's chest. Kamski's icy eyes flicked down to the hand and then up to meet Hank's. Sly. "And then there's humans. The main wonder for me, is love something we can achieve with androids, or is it just fascinated infatuation and the need to protect because they're so beautiful?"

That android wasn't Connor. Connor wouldn't do that.

Or would he? He was an android. Like Kamski said, no one was completely sure what went on inside their heads. Maybe Connor wouldn't see what was wrong with a situation like this. He wouldn't understand how it might break Hank's heart.

Which model was Connor?

"Why..." It took a few seconds to slow his heart rate enough to speak. "Why did Connor agree to this?"

Teasing, Kamski trained his gaze on the android closest to Hank. "You could ask him yourself." Then at the other. "But what he told me is that he was willing to help me in exchange for an upgrade in his technology. He wanted to be complete. I assume that's what you want as well?"

Playing with his goddamn emotions. "What do you want me to do?"

"Answer questions, be honest." The Connor model looped his arm through Kamski's and the man led him back to the center of the room, the throne chair. "But mostly just watch."


	3. The Test

Kamski waved Amber out of the room. Glaring, she left. She despised sharing. He'd once brought guests home from a party and invited her to join them. During the act she'd seemed enthusiastic, but after everyone else had cleared out, she'd taken to finding expensive collectibles to throw at the walls and then pouting outside the house until she nearly froze to death. 

The RK800 fit perfectly in his lap, curled against his chest and snuffling his face into the patch of bare chest showing. It was a good thing he'd relieved himself with Connor earlier, otherwise it would be much harder to hold out.

Wonderfully obediant, the other androids waited for further instruction. They were so still. How long would they stand there?

Sadly, that would prove to be more of a test of his patience than theirs.

"Lieutenant, can you tell which android is your partner?"

Anderson shook his head, brow furrowed, pained.

"Good. We can consider all of them to be Connor, then." He pointed at the standing RK800s. "Go ahead. Enjoy yourselves."

If he hadn't needed a-mostly-clear mind, Kamski would've enjoyed being able to be tangled up in all of the boys. But he wouldn't have been able to focus. They never knew when to stop, never wanted to stop. And that was addicting.

So he watched instead.

They reached for each other, curious, letting soft hands explore exquisitely crafted angles. LEDs flickering yellow, processing. It didn't take long before their lips were locked, before they were searching for a surface to cover. Lust took away their need for gracefulness as they repositioned awkwardly on the floor, making sure not to break contact.

"So, Hank." The older man's eyes were adverted from the show. "I don't like to assume. When you want to learn as much as you can, your mind has to be wide open. But you don't seem to be that interested in what we have going here. Is exhibitionism not your cup of tea? Or is there something else that's bothering you?"

Anderson's eyes rested on Kamski's face for a second before training out the window. "I don't like it when things seem...forced."

"Forced? You think I'm making them do this? That they don't experience lust on their own?" He snapped in the couples' direction. Their hands were pumping each other with so much fervor that if there had been a human in the mix, they might have gotten injured. Their eyes narrowed at him, seemingly angered at the thought of making them pause. "Do you want this?"

One cocked his head, asking, "Why wouldn't we?" The other started trying to sneak a thrust into the hand wrapped around him. Shameless. "We don't have to stop, right?"

Sure that he'd made his point, Kamski answered, "Do what you want."

They started up again.

The Connor model on his lap shifted. A more oblivious man might have thought it was nothing, but the android had purposefully rubbed himself against Kamski and then let his hand drift to land on the man's lower stomach. He was afraid to ask, nervous. He would have to wait.

Kamski forced his mind to return to the conversation. "You see? I'm not forcing them to do anything. I'm simply just the person that happened to bring them together, to help them see what they want."

"Yeah, but..." Hank picked something off the sleeve of his jacket. "How do you know?"

"I thought you of all people, a man with an android as his partner not only in work but at home, would be assured in the fact that androids are aware of the spectrum of their emotions. Is it the guilt? The idea of-" He held his hand near the RK800s lips, testing. "corrupting them? Do you feel guilty about Connor?"

Shaking his head, Anderson ran a hand through his hair. "How don't you?"

"No reason to." Simulated breath was heavy on his fingers. "Personally, I think your worries are more of a self confidence issue than an issue of morals. You wonder what reason someone like Connor would have to stay with someone like you-"

Hurt was strong in his tone. "Fuck you," the man growled.

"Don't worry, lieutenant. He likes you, obviously, to have stayed with you so long after androids were granted freedom."

There was no response. It had struck a chord.

Moans that had been background noise for their discussion had grown louder. Somehow, they had decided who was going to be on top. Now this was something that interested Kamski wildly. It was a definite proof that even if the models were similar in looks, their personalities could range. The more dominant RK800 was pushing into the other quickly, as if he felt he could never get deep enough, almost knocking the other off balance as he pressed himself off the floor.

This seemed to give a sense of boldness. The android in Kamski's lap let his tongue flick over each pad of the man's fingers before sucking them into his mouth. In and out, savoring. His cheeks were flushed blue with Thirium.

Oh well. He knew there would be a point where he'd have no choice but to give in.

Kamski adjusted their positions so that the android-no, Connor, he would let himself call this one Connor-was spread over his lap on his stomach. His hand traced each notch of Connor's spine to rest on the curve of his ass.

How could the liuetenant act as if he weren't interested in what was happening around him? He was observing the tick of his out dated watch.

"What time is it?"

Making the mistake of thinking Kamski actually cared about the time, Hank looked up to report, "It's eight-"

That was when he entered Connor. Two fingers. No use in taking it slow when he was already slick with lubrication. Connor gasped, his whole body tensing, burying his face into Kamski's arm.

Anderson looked away. His face turned a ruddy red color.

"Thank you, lieutenant."

As Kamski worked his fingers in Connor, starting a messy rhythm, Connor started bucking against him in time. He was thrusting against Kamski's thigh. Teasingly, the man stopped. The android whined, glancing behind him, most likely wondering what he had done wrong, "Please?" Who could deny that face? He scissored his fingers inside and the RK800 collapsed, spent.

He decided that this particular android might just be his favorite, other than Connor, of course.

"Do you find that Connor acts the same towards you as before his deviancy was present?"

Shock widened Hank's eyes. "What? Why?"

Stored in the back of his mind was the visual of Connor in between his legs at the desk. With the reminder of the android in his office and the one on his lap, Kamski's mind was growing lazy, focused on how hard he was getting. He needed everything to speed up. All thoughts were Connor.

The couple of RK800s were cuddled together, so tired they were ignoring how uncomfortable the floor might be.

His words sounded less eloquent. "I mean, did he seem to show attraction to you before your first visit here, before the revolution, or after?"

About to speak, the lieutenant started and stopped abruptly. All too clearly, he was about to lie. "After, I guess. He never seemed to be...interested before, in anything like that."

The android in his lap was toying with the piercing in his ear. "Hmm." Kamski had forgotten the point of the conversation altogether. He was usually so good at bullshitting, but then again, he didn't usually have to keep it up while he was aroused.

There wasn't enough strength left in his body to stop the affection seeping into his voice when he asked the android, "What would you like?"

Blue blush was still on the RK800s face but he seemed to have gained more confidence. "More, please. If that's what you want?" 

At some point, it had occured to Kamski that he might be done sleeping with humans, that they might never hold the same amount of his attention that androids could. Androids were often called naive. In a way, it was true. They wanted to believe people were good in nature. Life hadn't turned them bitter yet. Serving, providing happiness, being liked-it was all they desired. Pleasure but in such a simple way.

Androids were the true definition of the word beautiful.

He let himself be soft for a moment, brushing curls off Connor's forehead. "Of course."

Then he remembered Connor in his office, the real Connor, who had rejected his advances, who had been so afraid to hurt the man sharing the room with Kamski that he had nearly given up the chance to be made whole, and was given a renewed sense of resolve. This was the last act of his show and damn was he going to go out with a bang.

Quickly, no time to waste, Kamski undid his robe. Without delay, the android was throwing the piece of clothing as far as he could, preventing the man from covering up, touching any visible part of Kamski he could get his hands on. His greedy hands were tracing Kamski's shoulder bones, the center of his chest. They brushed his growing erection, teasing before giving one terribly slow pump.

Stifling a moan, the man shook his head. "Hands," he urged the RK800. 

Connor pouted. How he would've loved to use those lips for something else, but Kamski knew he wouldn't have lasted long through that.

To reassure the android, he ran his tongue along the outline of those lips. They opened. More. He slipped his tongue inside that warm mouth, fully aware of how sloppy it all was. Spit was sticking their lips together.

A hand was undoing Kamski's hair, letting it loose around his face. "I like you this way," Connor whispered. He ran his fingers through the hair, tugging on the ends.

He was trying to distract Kamski, to get what he wanted.

Pulling away, the man dragged the RK800s hands away, placing them crossed over his own chest. "Stay," he ordered. "You're not allowed to touch me or yourself."

"But-"

"Stay, or you won't get anything."

More of Connor's hair was falling onto his forehead. His lips were coated with spit. "Where do you want me?" Beautiful.

"On my lap. Face the lieutenant."

As much as he would love seeing Connor's innocent eyes, that sweet face while he fucked him, he was still trying to make a point and it would be so much better if Hank was able to see what Kamski was doing to the man he loved.  
...  
Kamski wanted the android to look at Hank while he fucked him. 

This fucking sicko was really gettting off on this, wasn't he? All the fucking emotional manipulation. Did he think Hank might want this too? What a fucking psycho.

None of the androids were Connor. They couldn't be.

All he had to do was stand there, pretend like he was paying attention while the wannabe villian type monolouged to get his rocks off, and wait. Kamski would be done soon and then he would admit that Connor had left minutes before Hank showed up or something like that.  
...  
How sweet Connor was, how precious, made it all the more delectable that he was so touch starved. That underneath that angelic disposition, he was just a slut like the rest of them, and how when Kamski pushed into him without warning he took it all and threw himself into the motions.

Sure to make bruises, Kamski let his teeth nip at the freckles along the androids shoulder. This was mainly to have something for his mouth to do. He'd gotten so good at keeping a poker face, not getting too into it. If anyone realized he was as animalistic, as needy and helpless as the people he fucked, they would have power over him. But it was more difficult than usual. Connor was so tight and he was practically bouncing.

The RK800s hands wandered down, attempting to touch himself.

"No," Kamski growled. His hand latched into Connor's curls, pulling hard until he was leaning his head onto the mans' shoulder, moaning directly into his ear.

Connor used his leg muscles to give a quick slide down Kamski's shaft, but obeyed and brought his hands back up. As a reward for listening, Kamski ran his hands over the androids' thighs, trembling with effort, smooth and so warm-everything about him was so warm-to his perfect cock. It fit better in his hands than his own did. Throbbing. They worked together then, moving in the same rhythm. 

Neither one of them would make it much longer, he knew that.

"Connor," he said, slowly, using all his energy to sound calm, to keep up the lie, "was it this good the first time you were with the lieutenant?"  
...  
Hank's heart was breaking.

He'd been wrong. No wonder Kamski had fawned over this specific android, cuddling him and favoring him over the others. It was Connor. He wanted Hank to have that image in his head, Connor begging and moaning to have another man.

Nothing ever lasted. 

The door to the room slid open.


	4. Results

The experiment Kamski had outlined for Connor was simple. He was to wait in the office until Hank arrived. Neither one of them would contact him. It was to see how well Hank knew his behavior patterns.

Hank knew him better than anyone. Sometimes, Connor thought, better than he knew himself.

But why hadn't he come to pick him up yet? Was he angry? Disappointed? Men over a certain age with high stress levels were more prone for health problems. Had something bad happened? He would never be able to forgive himself if he was the cause of Hank being hurt.

He ran his thumb over the edge of his t shirt.

He'd gotten it on his and Hank's first shopping trip together. He didn't want Connor to have to wear his Cyberlife uniform anymore, so he'd offered to take him to the store. But the whole time they were out, he would try to hold Hank's hand and the older man would find some way to shake it off. Sweaty palms, an itch on the back of his neck. Eventually, it got so obvious that he didn't want to be seen with Connor that it made artificial moisture come to his eyes and when Hank was busy scanning the racks, he'd gone to sit in an empty fitting room by himself.

It took Hank less than two minutes to locate him. Groaning a little bit because of his bad knees, he'd lowered himself to sit on the ground with Connor.

"I don't understand," Connor had started saying, and immediately hated how his voice sounded. Pathetic. Full of tears. He thought he'd accomplished so much, had grown as his own person, yet still he was so dependent on what this one man thought of him. "Is it because of what you said before? That I have a funny face? Is that why you don't want people to see us together?"

He hadn't been able to look Hank in the face, but he had heard the hitch in his voice. "Connor...That's-I was being an asshole when I said that. I was angry and I didn't know you-"

"If that's not why"-he wiped his eyes on the heel of his hand-"then why won't you hold my hand?"

A heavy arm wrapped itself around his shoulder, pulling him close. "Jesus, kid. I'm sorry for making you feel so shitty on account of my own problems."

"Problems?" He looked up to scan Hank. There didn't seem to be any immediate issues. "You seem fine."

"No health problems. More like, self image problems. You're not human"-Connor flinched-"I don't mean that in a bad way. I mean that you see the good in things, like in me. But you're this young, attractive guy that people look at on the street and when they see us, they wonder why the hell you're with me."

Confused, Connor turned to look at him. Close. Breath on his lips. "Why would they wonder?"

Those blue eyes, wonderful, blinked at him in disbelief. "Not everyone's like you, Connor." The older man's brow furrowed and made lines appear on his forehead. "A lot of people get into relationships because they, you know, find the other person hot. So they see me, this"-he gestured at himself-"fat, old, drunk, slob, and they probably think that I'm your fucking dad or something. I'm not what anyone considers attractive."

Hank's adversion to public affection hadn't been because of Connor, then, well, not directly. He didn't think he was good, didn't think he deserved good things.

He was wrong.

"Stop that," he told Hank, grabbing his hand tight. Perhaps a bit too tight. When he was feeling emotions strongly he tended to forget his strength. "I do find you attractive. And I wouldn't just say that to make you feel better. You know my opinions on dishonesty."

"You just don't know any better..."

When Hank got into a funk he tended to let himself stay that way until it got out of control, until he wanted to hurt himself. It usually was centered around decisions that he had regretted making in the past, but occasionally he would insult his looks. The first time they had sex Hank hadn't taken his shirt off. The first time sober, he'd flat out refused. He didn't realize how beautiful he was.

Sometimes it took affection to help his mindset. That calloused hand in his, prominent veins, strong, he pressed his lips to them.

"Connor..."

As he spoke, words fast, trying to get them all out before Hank cut them off with his own, he kept the mans' hand pressed softly to his Thirium pump, to his heart. "I hate when you speak about yourself like that. How old you are only marks how much experience you've had on this earth. And you aren't fat, Hank." He used his other hand to slide underneath Hank's shirt, feeling the soft skin and hair there. "A little soft, yes, but underneath this, you are built to be strong." Moved his hand over Hank's heart. "You are beautiful and it hurts me when you try to hurt yourself. Because I love you."

Wetness grew in the corners of Hank's eyes. Tears. "Fuck. You're getting all mushy on me, kid."

"Mushy? I'm very much in a solid form, thank you very much." He was teasing. There was a part of him that was very afraid that Hank might not say the words back to him and poking fun helped. A little.

"Shut up." He pulled Connor into a kiss. Tickly because of his beard. Nervous because of the words unsaid. Warm because the closeness of their bodies.

His hand traveled down from Hank's chest to land on his zipper.

Hank pulled away. "None of that."

Connor cocked his head.

"I didn't kiss you because I wanted sex. I kissed you because I love you, idiot. Plus," he added, seeing the smile growing on Connor's face, "we're in public right now."

That was the first time they'd said "I love you". It was also the day Hank had bought Connor that shirt. He'd said that green was his color, that it went well with his eyes. Connor couldn't wear that shirt without thinking back to that day.

Why was Hank taking so long?

As an attempt to distract himself, Connor did a small spin in the office chair. Or, what started as a small spin and turned into many quick spins. It was hard to complicate processing functions, spinning was one of the closest Connor got to being disoriented. It was an interesting feeling and he never seemed to get enough of it. Hank had even bought a swiveling office chair for the house. Connor's time on it was limited, because he had spun so many times once that the chair had been temporarily broken, but he had gained a small victory once when he had convinced Hank to make love on the chair.

Making love...

A small burn of guilt built in him as he recalled what had transpired earlier with Kamski. His body was meant to react to physical advances like the human anatomy and his creator was an undeniably attractive man, but he wasn't Hank. Connor wanted to make love, not whatever Kamski might enjoy.

No more spinning. He needed something new to keep his mind occupied.

Going through other peoples' things was wrong. Snooping. But with nothing else to do, Kamski's computer was like a beacon in front of him. It occured to Connor that he might not know enough about his creator's personality to come up with the password on his own. He tried not to do this more often than not, as it wasn't nessasary in most situations, but Connor hacked the computer.

It was much too easy. If there was anything worth protecting, Kamski would have it stored in a safer place. At least that meant he wouldn't find anything too shocking.

There were saved news articles. Mostly about the progress of the android revolution, technological advancements, many praising Kamski. Some about Markus and his peaceful movement. About new Cyberlife stores planning to open that would be marketed towards androids themselves.

Then, he came upon a file of videos. Many of them were labeled with names of specific android types. He noticed RT600. Chloe. Maybe these were videos Kamski had made containing information about the kinds of creations he'd made. It might be interesting to see his creator speak his thoughts out loud. It might be more personal than their previous conversations. Kamski often spoke in tones to entrance and persuade.

The video wasn't what Connor thought it would be. 

He knew about sex and had seen others memories of it before, having scanned the androids at the Eden Club, but it was still so personal to see Kamski pushing Chloe onto a bed, rough, fast...Too personal. He closed the video.

There were more than two dozen videos.

Connor was about to shut off the computer when he noticed a few downloads that were labeled RK800. For one, the date of download being the current day. He felt like he was spinning.

He clicked the most recent video. Instead of being seen through the lens of a video camera, it was a first person view. Hank's bathroom. He recognized the sticky notes. Connor viewing himself in a mirror, just out of the shower, hair slicked back. The water shut off, shower curtain opened. Hank stepped out and came up behind Connor. He was kissing his neck. Connor's hands were braced on the sink, grinding back against the man, biting his lip.

Noticing how long the video seemed, he fast forwarded to the end. Bright neon and androids in display cases. The Eden Club. Connor and Hank's first time.

Spinning, spinning, spinning.

Amber. When she had touched his hand earlier while taking off his jacket. And Kamski had told her to download the file. Kamski had wanted her to download Connor's memories. He wanted to add Connor to his collection.

He had to leave. He should've never come to this place. He needed to get back to Hank.   
...  
It was Connor. Not a RK800 model that was willing to give Kamski whatever he wanted. The real Connor with his tight jeans, his cheeks burning blue and his eyes on fire with anger. And he was wonderful as he stormed into the room.

Kamski came.  
...  
"Connor?" Hank's knees shook, threatening to go out from underneath him. Relief was heavy.  
...  
Connor glanced at the RK800s on the floor, in power saving mode. Naked. Spent. Then, at the one disentangling himself from Kamski, covered in marks and semen. Connor hadn't ever been sick before, he wasn't capable of it, but he had been scared, and this feeling pulling him down, making him think too quickly, was close enough. This is what could've happened to him if he'd been foolish enough to fall for the act.

No. He would've never betrayed Hank like that.

Kamski bared his teeth-a smile. It felt like a warning of danger. "Sorry for you having to see this. But you know the nature of experiments, Connor. The subjects sometimes can't be fully aware of the true nature to ensure that the results aren't-"

"Shut up." The words felt as if someone else were speaking them. "Hank and I are leaving. We aren't coming back. Ever. I expect you to delete that video."  
...  
Mouth gaping, Kamski was caught off guard.

Without jealousy and hurt clouding his judgment, Hank came to the realization that this man was probably just as pathetic as he'd once been. Living up here in his house all alone, wallowing in past success, fucking whatever he could take. Lonely.

Kamski's face rearranged to better fit the cocky persona he'd had earlier. "Well, I'm sorry to hear that you didn't enjoy your visit. But I'm sure you'll change your mind, given the chance to beta test our new technology."

Connor crossed the room, looping his arm through Hank's arm and grabbing on, digging his fingers in a little too hard. From how close they were, he could feel the tension in the androids' body. "No. I will wait until the technology is offered to the public. Help from you is a lie. You only care about amusing yourself, not helping others."

"It hurts me to hear you say that, Connor."

Hank didn't speak. He thought he should defend Connor, but other than what he had just witnessed, this wasn't his fight. He wouldn't ever be able to understand how it would feel to see yourself being used, fucked, without your permission. He should've done something, intervened. Just one more thing he'd done that he wouldn't be able to forgive himself for.

That's why he didn't interrupt, that was why he let Connor drag him out of the house, the only stupid question coming to mind, "What about your jacket?"

"I'm fine."

They climbed into the car. By now, Connor usually would've smelled the whiskey on his breath, scanned his body and decided not to let him drive. The silence was too much.

"Connor." He gently draped his arm over Connor's shoulders, trying to comfort without pressuring him too much. "Are you alright?"

Connor's eyes met his, tears growing in the corners, blinking rapidly. His LED was red. "I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine." It was almost mechanical, the way he said it. It reminded Hank of before Connor had gone deviant and he would repeat the same words about having to complete his mission over and over, trying to convince himself. "I'm fine." He leaned into Hank, burying his face into his chest.

"You don't have to be," Hank told him, trying to be soft. "If you need to feel this, let yourself."

"They were exactly like me."

At first, Hank had thought that too, but now he knew the truth. "No one is you, Connor. You have your own mannerisms and your own personality. You're you."  
...  
The plan had been half baked at best, but even some of Kamski's worst plans had come out with the best results. Yes, he still had Amber. He'd gotten the other RK800s. Downloaded Connor's memories. But in the process, he'd lost the real Connor. And he might never come back.

Kamski paced the house for an hour, trying to work out his frantic energy.

Connor had asked him to delete the video. He couldn't. That might be the last piece of him Kamski had. He started it at the beginning. Connor dazed, staring at himself in the reflection while he was being dicked down by the lieutenant. He was shy, but obviously enjoying himself. The noises he made were mouthwatering. 

Hating himself, hating Hank, Chloe, the RK800s, Connor, everyone, he started fucking his hand.

He could get past this. Going back to Cyberlife was probably the best decision of his life. With a team of people looking up to him for motivation, he would finally be able to make progress again. He would make new prototypes, fully equipped this time. He would make new technology and market it towards making the lives of androids easier. He would learn how to implant the memories of humans in android bodies. He would be a visionary, immortal. He would...

"Call Chloe," Kamski called down the hall. He knew Amber was listening.

A month after Chloe had left, he had hired a private investigator to find her. She was living with two other girls downtown in a small loft. She wanted to get the proper training to someday be able to be a teacher.

Amber informed him, "She's currently unavailable, but you could leave her a message."

"Alright...How's life, darling? Not sure if you've gotten the news, but I've gotten a, you could call it, a promotion. Back to the start. We're all here, waiting patiently until you decide to grace us with your presence..."

Maybe he was in love with Chloe. Maybe he was in love with Connor. Maybe the only person he would ever love was himself.

"Good. Uh, I'll see you then. Ciao."

In time with Connor on the video, he came.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. I appreciate comments.


End file.
